


lilly pillies

by politicalmedievalistnerd



Series: Harry Potter Expanded Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmedievalistnerd/pseuds/politicalmedievalistnerd
Summary: December 23, 1976. James has screwed up, big time. Lily's not in the mood to forgive him, until an unexpected knowledge of Herbology leads to a conversation, which leads to a revelation, which leads to.....





	lilly pillies

“James?”

Two days before Christmas, and the snow fell hard, blanketing the courtyard. Lanterns glowed on the arching, stony walls that had risen there forever, and the yellow light glistened in the loose red curls, dancing across her pale skin, kissing the raise of her purple veins. A knitted, woolly green hat with a red little ball was slumping across her head, covering one of her eyebrows, matching her mittens. The moon glittered in the centre of the sky, a shining, shimmering orb that matched the creases of the snow. 

Lily folded her arms across her stomach, her knees bending slightly, but she swallowed and continued on, one foot in front of the other. The ground was damp and slippery, a fierce wind blowing off the Black Lake - her muscles were tensed, keeping her upright. She had to do this. He turned to face her, dark hair mussed, poking out beneath a Gryffindor beanie. It was strange, she thought, to see him out alone. Rarely was he without Sirius, let alone Peter and Remus. His jeans flared out, revealing the snow-covered boots he wore. He sent her a soft smile, blinking, and for a moment, she thought he might be crying. His chocolate eyes certainly glittered as though tears hid in them.

 

“Lilly pillies,” he breathed. She paused, frowning, two metres from him. He held a small, round, pink berry between his forefinger and thumb. “They’re Australian. One of the secret ingredients in the ‘Lovely Ladies’ Dye to Die For’ concoction. For the pinky colour.”

Despite everything, her lips quivered upwards. “You shouldn’t tell me family secrets.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t realise they had them here. S’pose Hogwarts has to have a plant of everything. Or else Herbology would be even more dreadfully boring.”

Lily bit back a response; she wasn’t here to debate the finer points of various school classes with the Potter. Besides, her lips were beginning to grow frosty, and curfew would be any minute. She wasn’t sure, exactly, why she had gone outdoors in the first place; her friends were holed up inside the common room, likely playing chess or Exploding Snap or penning letters to their parents. It wasn’t because of James, it wasn’t because she noticed him missing at dinner and wanted to know why.  _ Really,  _ that would just be stupid. 

“It’s cold,” she said, tone as chilly as the air. “You ought to be wearing a scarf.”   
“What do you care, Evans?”   
_ Ouch.  _

 

“I’m a prefect,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “It’s my job to care about people.”

He seemed to consider this. “Want one?” He gestured to the berries. Lily shook her head. She didn’t think she could stomach it, but he tossed her one anyway. It hit her cheek and fell into the snow. He swallowed. “You were supposed to catch it,” he said, and she could not tell if he was joking. 

“Two minutes until curfew,” she said, by way of response, staring at the lilly-pilly, bright pink against the grey sheet of snow. “You don’t need any more detentions,  _ Potter. _ ” His surname was sharp on the end of her tongue, and her vocal chords stung as the sound vibrated against the soft, creamy skin on her neck. She adjusted her beanie, the rest of her eyebrows springing from beneath the dyed wool, and a curl escaping from the prison to wander down to nuzzle her jawline. She balled one fist, as if it would make her feel better, nails struggling to reach her covered palm. 

 

“Don’t care,” James shrugged, chewing on another berry. She could see the juice beginning to stain his front teeth a delicate rosy colour. “Probably deserve it.” He raised his eyebrows high and blinked furiously, pulling the flesh of his lip into his mouth. Lily’s fist began to shake, and she told herself it was because of the cold; of  _ course  _ she would shiver, anybody would. A tear slid down her cheek, and then she  _ couldn’t  _ deny it, no matter how much she longed to. She had thought she was done with tears, after spending a night in the arms of Mary and Marlene, with Mary hugging her tightly and Marlene suggesting the most painful methods she knew of both magical and muggle castration. 

“Why?” she asked, trying to sound as impersonal as possible, more like an Auror interrogating their prisoner than two friends, or two - nevermind. They weren’t. “Ruin somebody else’s life?” Her eyes shut, and she wished it hadn’t slipped out. His head would only swell, knowing he’d affected her so much. 

 

“I was a prat,” he said, as though talking about the weather, eating yet another berry. Part of her hoped he had misidentified them and ended up in the Hospital Wing. Part of her admired his surprising Herbology skills. If the prefect badge wasn’t sitting so proudly on her chest, she may have been inclined to pull a branch off the tree and whack him with it. Who had told him to say that? Remus, likely, she decided. Sirius would tell him to say something idiotic so he’d get a laugh, and Peter’s advice would have him grovelling and kissing her feet. Remus knew her best out of James’ little gang. Lily resolved to have words with him, stern words, when they next patrolled together.  _ No more coaching.  _

The tear fell onto her collar, and she refused to wipe it. To acknowledge the small droplet would be further acknowledgement that she was at all bothered, or upset. She would not permit it. Instead, she swallowed hard, clenching her jaw, and pressing her fist against her leg. A bruise would appear by morning, she knew full well. “Yeah,” she said lightly. “You were.” His eyes locked on hers, wide and deep like a wounded pup. Half the girls in their year would’ve scooped him into their arms right then and there, even patted his hair like a dog. She’d been meaning to make a joke about that, actually, but she didn’t have enough good cheer in her to get the tone right. “How’s Renee?”

 

He jerked suddenly, at the mention of the other girl’s name, lurching towards her. Lily’s heart raced, but she stood her ground, even as he loomed over her.  _ I was taller than you once,  _ she thought, recalling their first interaction, in the common room on the first night in the castle. 

“I was drunk,” he said, defensive.

“So I should report you for underage drinking, too? And Firewhisky on school grounds?” Lily shot back, raising her chin so high that it bumped his. She could feel his teeth clatter, and the dark stubble rubbed against the softness beneath her chin. She was aware she looked ridiculous, but it had shocked him, and it was one of the only things he didn’t work well with; shock. 

 

He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head, as though trying to look more attractive would prevent her from being angry. Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist, using all her might to hold him still. Veins popped against her fingertips, and she could scarcely cover one side with her small palm. She was also painfully aware that, if she moved her head downwards, his lips would end up in the centre of her forehead.    
“Lily -”   
“If you’re dating her, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter, okay? Really. You can snog whoever you want. You can get into anybody’s bloody pants, it doesn’t bother me if you sleep with half the school. However,” she cleared her throat, begging her voice not to break. “Snogging two girls in an hour is a  _ bit  _ of a dog act, don’t you think?”

He was smiling. “A  _ seriously  _ dog act, yes. I know.”

 

A laugh escaped from his mouth, and she longed to slap him. He deserved it. “James,” she barked, “this is-” but she couldn’t say  _ serious  _ again, so she fell silent. One of his hands crept onto her waist and she swatted it away. He smiled like he thought the world was okay, and she needed a new plan. Something to shock him out of his complacency.

“You were my first,” she blurted, not meaning to.  _ Damn.  _ It was meant to be  something , but not that. It did give him pause, at least. He raised his eyebrows, and his jaw dropped and hit the top of her nose. “Ow,” she said, pointedly, and he stepped back. She wasn’t sure if she was thankful; frustrating as he was, the feeling off his breath pushing back her hair had been….nice. He squinted his eyes, peering through his glasses at her.

 

“What about Snape? Back before you were such a goody-goody, rumour had it you’d have  _ sleepovers.”  _ She watched him closely, trying to decipher his expression. It was something that only crossed his face when Sev came up, but unfortunately, as hard as she’d looked, there was no guide to boys’ facial expressions. She was just left with her best guess, and it tempted her to going back on her words.  _ I kissed Sev,  _ she could see herself telling him, and his face would fall, and he would feel how she felt when she climbed the stairs to the seventh-year girls’ dorms, returning a book, and found his head between Renee’s tanned thighs. 

 

“No,” she said, deciding against it. She wasn’t  _ cruel.  _ “We stayed up late in the library, studying, and he would come over for tea when I was younger. We live in the same neighbourhood. It doesn’t happen anymore.” It was the truth, bare, simple. It was all she could give him. James shifted from one foot to another, sighed, and began to talk.

 

“The moment Snape came along, you broke off like I had Dragon Pox, burst into tears and ran down the hall. He nearly hexed me, the git, if Sirius hadn’t stepped in. Was I supposed to think you were into me with that? Usually, when that happens, you’re meant to leave a girl alone. Renee likes me, she’s hot, I was pissed off at you, so why not?”   
“So every time we fight, you go hook up with some other chick?” she demanded. “You wonder why I don’t go out with you.”

“Why do you care?” he asked. “You don’t like me. One try, you said, and I must’ve done something for you to start sobbing. That or you’re lying about Snapey.”   
“I’m not.”   
“Then what did I do?”

 

The truth hung somewhere in the frosty air, dangling in front of their faces. Neither wanted to grasp it, for fear of cold, but somebody had to. Two Gryffindors, and yet neither were brave enough. Lily opened her mouth, paused, and closed it. Anything she said would make it sound like she loved him, or Sev, or both. Her head hurt.  _ James is nothing more than a stupid fancy,  _ she told herself.  _ Think about it. Think about when you were little. James wasn’t there.  _ In a way, though, Severus hadn’t been either. He was impenetrable, with a face like stone and his heart guarded so closely that maybe only she had ever glimpsed it. She had been to his house once, at thirteen, after he told her they shouldn’t several times, and she had taken him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye and said,  _ “I’ll protect you,”  _ like some kind of lioness, crowned in a halo of red hair, and she had stayed all night, just that once, hiding with him under the bed, watching. 

 

“He’s like my brother, James,” was all she could say, even though they had hardly spoken since he turned to her, spat out the word  _ ‘mudblood’  _ like she was diseased. It chilled her to the bone, and she wanted to hate him. She did; she did, really, but she couldn’t manage to be openly antagonistic. Her warfare was in ignoring him, but if it came to hurting him, to his face, she would cry. And she had; she had caught his look when he strode down the corridor, his popped eyes, his shield shattered, and his almost cartoonish expression had haunted her every waking moment. “But I don’t - I couldn’t - not like that. Like Sirius to you. James, I - I don’t like him like that.”  _ I like you, like that, maybe.  _

“Lily,” James said, his voice liquid and warm. She had thought he would taste like hot chocolate. She had been correct. Her stomach twisted, and she took a step towards him, though she wasn’t quite sure why. It was one minute past curfew. He gazed at her, dazzled, almost, and slightly squinted, as if she was the sun. “May I kiss your cheek?”

She took a breath. She took another. The tears were coming back, no matter how much she fought them. “No,” she said, strong, unbreakable, never mind her crying. “You may kiss my lips.”

He did.


End file.
